08/07/2026
Reggie’s Story
In September of 2025, Reggie’s owner was found down by EMS during a welfare check. The man had been on the floor for 4 days. When the paramedics found the man, Reggie was curled up at his side.
The man went to the hospital.
Reggie went to the shelter.
He was in rough shape. Underweight, half bald, he had terrible teeth, was blind in one eye and had fatty tumors dangling from his belly. His face drooped on one side, like he had had a stroke. With his age and appearance, it seemed unlikely he’d be adopted. But there was no way I was going to let this dog, who had been through so much, spend his last days in a shelter.
I brought him home to Ben’s Place.
Reggie took no time at all to settle in. He explored his new yard, checked out a few of the dog beds, found the water bowls, and that was that. He didn’t pay the other dogs much mind, just kept to himself, did his own thing.
Reggie got healthy, fast. His coat grew back and he put on weight. As he got stronger he spent more time outside, and he LOVED his yard. He’d spend hours out there, just wandering around, sniffing here, peeing there. He’d often follow me around the yard as I worked on one project or another. When the porch door was open and he had free rein, I swear he’d go in and out 100 times a day!
Reggie was a clown. He’d often stare at a blank wall, then start scratching and barking at it. Maybe he’d heard or smelled some critter in there, but as none of the other dogs ever did that, it made me wonder: was there really something there, or was that just Reggie being Reggie??
This summer I’d often find him lying wedged between the toilet and the bathroom wall, presumably to stay cool. He’d lie there for hours at a time, and yes, in case you’re wondering, it’s a bit weird to use the bathroom while at the same time trying to be very quiet and not disturb the dog sleeping RIGHT beside your foot!
Reggie was yappy. Whether he was waiting for his supper, or a dog had crossed his space, or he’d been startled awake from a nap, Reggie would let out with a high pitched bark and yap yap yap yap yap yap yap, LONG after the offending incident had passed! And he had absolutely ZERO concept of the word “no”. If at any time during any one of his antics I’d scold him or tell him no, he’d either completely ignore me, or just look at me and keep right on going. The only thing that would redirect him would be a calm touch and soft words. So many times over this last year I’d come up to him, put my hand along his back, pet him softly and tell him it was OK. Everything was OK. He’d look up, blink and be like “Really? It’s all OK? Oh, well, alright then” and he’d go on about his day like nothing had happened.
You know how dogs will circle and scratch before they lie down?
Not Reggie. When Reggie decided to lie down it was like his legs just suddenly gave out. He’d be walking along then BOOM, down he went. At bedtime, he’d climb the ramp at the head of the bed, collapse on the pillow like he’d just run a marathon, sigh, and then stay there ALL NIGHT. I would curl up behind him, throw my arm over him, he didn’t budge. Get up in the middle of the night, come back to bed, there he was, same spot, hadn’t moved an inch.
Reggie was sweet, too. He always wanted to be near me. If I was on the couch, he’d be under the side table right beside me. In bed, he slept on the side of my pillow. If I was at the breakfast bar, he was under the chair. He’d tolerate my petting, and he’d wag his tail and give me the quickest of kisses if I knelt down, rubbed his chest, put my forehead on his, but for the most part, all he wanted was to be near me.
Once, a few days after I’d brought him home, he hopped up on my lap, gave me a kiss, snuggled in next to me. At the time I figured it was just him settling in; but no, it was just that once. Looking back I wonder if maybe he was saying thank you.
This spring Reggie started with a dry, hacking cough. The vet diagnosed him with heart failure. Multiple vet visits and meds helped, but as the weeks went by it slowly got worse.
On his last day , he woke up on the pillow beside me. He ate his breakfast with gusto, as usual. It was a beautiful summer day and he spent much of it out roaming the yard. He took a nap, beside the toilet, of course. He wolfed down his supper, then came to lie beside me, under his table while I sat sat on the couch.
I went out at 6pm to cut the grass. When I came back at 730, Reggie was in distress, lying on the floor, panting heavily, drooling. His tongue was an awful shade of grey. He was minimally responsive.
I rushed him to the car, put him down in the passenger seat, sped towards the emergency vet. My hand on his back, as it had been so often, telling him it was going to be OK. It would all be OK.
But I was wrong. It was too late.
I watched him struggle to breathe.
I watched his breathing slow.
I watched him die.
*****
It’s been a few days now. The heaviness slowly fades, replaced with gratitude.
Gratitude, and, of course, the love.
Always the love.
